


dream

by perennials



Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, it's short as hell im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perennials/pseuds/perennials
Summary: In this dream he is five, still small enough that he has to tip-toe to reach the long sleeves of his father's kimono.





	

Sakamoto doesn't remember much about his father.   


 

He's got a handful of memories at best, too many to press into his wallet but just enough to slip into a roomy back pocket. They smell like tea leaves and sweat and beaten coin-metal.

  
  
There are bigger, brighter things in life worth holding onto, anyway. Like the rush of air in his ears as his fleet lifts off the ocean surface (heading for outer space, for  _ outside _ space), or the thrill of lightning that shoots up his spine when he seals a really good deal after a round too many of tiresome haggling.

  
  
Still, what worn, faded scraps remain do so with a surprising ferocity.

  
  
In this dream he is five, still small enough that he has to tip-toe to reach the long sleeves of his father's kimono.

 

"Father," he says, tugging at the expensive fabric, “there's a festival today.”

 

His father doesn't slow his step, and Sakamoto stumbles over the uneven floorboards a little. His fingers slip.

  
  
"You're not done with morning lessons yet, are you?”

 

"No," Sakamoto admits in a small voice.

  
  
A few more fumbling footsteps later he lets go. His father doesn't notice. Father’s eyes are on Sakamoto's sister. They always are.

 

—So Sakamoto recounts the instance to Gintoki, with a laugh so big and bright and loud it fills the entire room and leaves no space for an immediate response. To his relief Gintoki doesn't push the matter, and eventually their conversation veers off in a different direction. Sakamoto laughs some more and Gintoki digs his nose and Shinpachi sticks his head in at one point to ask if he's staying for dinner. The next thing he knows the sun has set and he’s feeling pleasantly full and sleepy, and Mutsu’s knocking on the Yorozuya’s front door.

 

“You would've liked Shouyou,” Gintoki says suddenly, while Sakamoto’s picking himself off the floor and adjusting his sunglasses.

 

“Is that so?” Sakamoto wonders aloud. Mutsu’s knocking has turned to insistent banging. He's starting to worry for the door.

 

Gintoki motions towards the entrance with an easy yawn. “Yeah,” he says, idly meeting Sakamoto’s eyes behind the darkened frames of his sunglasses. “He’d hold your hand even if you didn't want him to.”

 

Sakamoto’s heart clenches. It's not a bad feeling, he decides.

 

“Ahaha, Shouyou sounds like a great person!” He really does.

 

**Author's Note:**

> written for a twotter thing im taking prompts for 3 sentence fics btw @ nikiforcvs where u give me a prompt and i turn three sentences into 300 words hmu anytime  
> also YE holy shit its a gintam  
> its shor tbut  
> i hpooe u like  
> and if u liked it! leave a kudo or a comment or don't or whatever, whatever floats your boat rlly man  
> its 3 thirty in the morning im dead sorry catch yall later
> 
> have a good one


End file.
